*~Title: The Mist Will Reyes
*~Author: Me, me, me, me, ME!!!
*~Rating: PG-13 for some language, some violence, and some badass stuff
*~Category: DRR/Casefile Fic (Sorta)
*~Timeframe: Approx. 11 Years After "The Truth"
*~Disclaimer: [Sings] The X-Files is a show, with music by Mark Snow. Good enough?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Monica, we've been driving for three hours and still haven't told me where the hell we're going." John said, his eyes piercing me. I still didn't give in. I couldn't.
My heart was still pumping hard against my chest, my hands still sweaty, my voice a mere choke. A million different emotions were bursting within me. My heart does another back flip as I'm one mile closer to answers to questions I dared not ask.
I knew a long, long time ago I had been adopted. I didn't ask about who I was, or who my parents were, it didn't matter to me. Now it means everything.
I had only learned last night that I even had a sister. She died twelve years ago giving birth to my niece, who is now in big trouble, accused of killing her foster father and her teacher.
I need to get there. I need to know.
I need to get New York City. Fast. New York City
Four hours later... "Monica, I'm serious, I have the right to know why we're here."
Silence.
I eased my tightened grip on the steering wheel and sighed, "I guess you're right," I hesitated, "John, these people who called me... they said they needed help... my twelve-year-old niece is the prime suspect for the murders of her uncle and teacher."
"Niece? You have a niece?" Doggett replied, a rather surprised look planted on his face.
"Yeah... what's really surprising is..." I pressed on the breaks in front of a small apartment complex. "Look here..." I pointed to her profile. "Same birthday as William."
"And why does that *surprise* you?"
"Two things... really odd reports even before she was accused of these murders... see, in her classroom a male classmate by the name of Thomas Kelly spontaneously floated in the air after assaulting her with his fists."
"And number two?"
"Look at this class picture," I said, handing it to Doggett, "doesn't that one boy look a lot like Mulder..."
"So?"
"Look at his name."
"That's William alright, should we call Dana."
"Not just yet. I've got to meet the family."
*~Author: Me, me, me, me, ME!!!
*~Rating: PG-13 for some language, some violence, and some badass stuff
*~Category: DRR/Casefile Fic (Sorta)
*~Timeframe: Approx. 11 Years After "The Truth"
*~Disclaimer: [Sings] The X-Files is a show, with music by Mark Snow. Good enough?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Monica, we've been driving for three hours and still haven't told me where the hell we're going." John said, his eyes piercing me. I still didn't give in. I couldn't.
My heart was still pumping hard against my chest, my hands still sweaty, my voice a mere choke. A million different emotions were bursting within me. My heart does another back flip as I'm one mile closer to answers to questions I dared not ask.
I knew a long, long time ago I had been adopted. I didn't ask about who I was, or who my parents were, it didn't matter to me. Now it means everything.
I had only learned last night that I even had a sister. She died twelve years ago giving birth to my niece, who is now in big trouble, accused of killing her foster father and her teacher.
I need to get there. I need to know.
I need to get New York City. Fast. New York City
Four hours later... "Monica, I'm serious, I have the right to know why we're here."
Silence.
I eased my tightened grip on the steering wheel and sighed, "I guess you're right," I hesitated, "John, these people who called me... they said they needed help... my twelve-year-old niece is the prime suspect for the murders of her uncle and teacher."
"Niece? You have a niece?" Doggett replied, a rather surprised look planted on his face.
"Yeah... what's really surprising is..." I pressed on the breaks in front of a small apartment complex. "Look here..." I pointed to her profile. "Same birthday as William."
"And why does that *surprise* you?"
"Two things... really odd reports even before she was accused of these murders... see, in her classroom a male classmate by the name of Thomas Kelly spontaneously floated in the air after assaulting her with his fists."
"And number two?"
"Look at this class picture," I said, handing it to Doggett, "doesn't that one boy look a lot like Mulder..."
"So?"
"Look at his name."
"That's William alright, should we call Dana."
"Not just yet. I've got to meet the family."